


this ain't no hotel room, honey

by soldierly



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cunnilingus, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierly/pseuds/soldierly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Tony and Steve are a competitive skating team. When their choreographer is a little too flirty with Steve, Tony gets possessive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this ain't no hotel room, honey

**Author's Note:**

> This is pre-serum Steve appearance-(and health)wise.

He hadn't noticed.

Steve hadn't even _noticed_ that Kurt had been practically dancing around him, adjusting the arch of his back and the push of his chest, touching him here and there and fucking everywhere and leaving Tony burning with the need to _claim_ him, to -- solidify whatever it was that had happened the other night.

Steve stares at her when she shoves him back against the door, pinning him there, pushing hard against him. She's already wet and she can feel the low, throbbing ache cupped between her legs, the heavy hunger that echoes up her spine and curls in her throat. "Tony," Steve says, his hand falling to her hip, but her eyes are dark and she rubs against him, her lips tracing his jaw, finding the smudge of a fading mark. "Tony," Steve says again, softer now, strained, his hips canting toward her. She pulls back to look him in the eye, sees his flick downward. She grins, full of herself, can't help it, and he flushes, finds something very interesting to the left of her shoulder and stares at it.

She's tempted to ask _Is that what you want?_ but she knows it is, and the last time she'd pushed Steve down and planted her knees on his shoulders and gave him the illusion of _making him_ , he'd come untouched, the shock of it rocketting through him so hard he'd nearly thrown her from the bed. So she tangles her fingers in his hair and pushes him down to kneel, shifts up close enough that there's no mistaking her intent. Steve swallows hard, wavering, his fingers flexing with the tension of it, and then he's pulling at her sweats, tugging them down off her hips and letting them puddle around her feet for her to step out of. She does, hooks her thumbs in the band of her briefs and tugs, but Steve pushes her hands away, shoulders between her legs and licks a thick stripe up her cunt through the black cotton, finds the band with his teeth and pulls, slides them so slow down her thighs that Tony can't _take_ it anymore.

"Tease me and I'll tell Pepper you need to work on your lutzes," she gasps, shoving her underwear down and kicking them away. Steve runs his hands up her calves, turns his fingers along the backs of her knees, digs his fingernails in when he reaches her thighs, pulls her in close. "Steve." Then, again, "Steve," more insistent, her voice cracking. Steve coaxes her leg up onto his shoulder, shifts so close she has to brace a hand on the wall behind him, the other falling to slide into his hair. He makes a noise at that, buries his mouth against her, licking into her, tongue wet and hot and sinfully good.

He's never been the type for writing his name or whatever ridiculousness that is, just knows how, with heavy pressure and teasing touches, the brush and push and curl that's all perfectly right. Tony shudders, the muscles in her thighs quaking when Steve slips a hand up and gently rubs his thumb against her clit, working a slow circle while she pants. He turns his mouth into her thigh, kissing messy and wet and wet with _her_ , and oh god that makes her moan, makes her spine arch. Steve smiles like she's done something amazing and opens her up with his fingers, fucks her with his tongue until she's almost incoherent, barely there enough to think that it was _she_ who was supposed to drive _him_ crazy tonight.

"Steve," she gasps, when she's right there, just needs it more, just needs the keeping on, "Steve, I'm -- "

He rubs his knuckles against the outside of her thigh and presses the flat of his tongue to her clit, licking hard and fast, even and rhythmic until orgasm pulses through her, sweeping Tony with its intensity. She shivers it out and makes noise she's pretty sure she's never made before, ever, with anyone. When she can see straight again, Steve is still kneeling, his hands cupped around her hips to keep her upright. Tony drops, letting her legs fold under her, and Steve spreads his legs, lets her fall against his chest.

"Good?" he asks, and she laughs, hoarse.

"My smugness is rubbing off on you. I'm so proud."

He _hmph_ s and kisses her; he still tastes like her, and it's enough to make heady lust burn through Tony again, tempting her. But she's boneless still, can't move, and Steve is stroking her side, easy and soft and patient and so very like himself. She shifts, huffs out a sigh that Steve must mistake for discontent, because he says, "You know I'm yours," which, wow, that blindsides her from an angle she didn't even knew existed, which is why she can't say anything, just drops her head onto his shoulder and breathes until she feels centered again, is back to herself, can feel Steve's heart beating, his faulty lungs working.

"Round two?" she says, clever lips against his ear.

She doesn't have to see to know he's grinning.

"You're on."


End file.
